


The Grace Of A Demon

by Aeshna_cyanea



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Feelings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna_cyanea/pseuds/Aeshna_cyanea
Summary: "There but for the Grace of God..."Well, God didn't do anything to save Father Frank's life. But what if somebody else had? Somebody rather unexpected.





	1. Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Because Lucifer was right, Frank didn't deserve to die. And because I like messing with Lucifer's head. ;)

Maze stared after Lucifer and his pet detective as they ran off to find the priest. She just couldn't understand why he had suddenly started caring about some humans. First that detective, and now a priest of all people. And he did care about the priest, no matter how much he denied it. For someone who despised liars, he sure liked to lie to himself.  
  
He had developed all these human emotions, and he was letting them rule his actions. And now he and his pet human had run off to save a priest who was so determined to save the boy he had once known that he would probably get himself killed by the thug that boy had become. It would all end in tears, Maze was certain. None of them were thinking straight, and that was a dangerous thing to do when you were heading into an armed confrontation.  
  
This thought gave her pause. If Lucifer and the detective caught up with the priest in time, there was a chance that her Lord would do something stupid and get himself hurt. He clearly hadn't realized the full consequences of his recent bout of mortality yet, and he had never had much of a sense of self-preservation at any rate. It had always been her job to look after him, to protect him and keep him from getting hurt. When they had left Hell and come here, she had thought that it would make that job easier, since mortals posed no danger to the Lord of Hell. But now...  
  
With a growl, Maze left her place behind the bar and headed out into the night. No matter how bad things were between her and Lucifer, it was still her duty to protect him. She had been lax in that, had allowed this mortal world to lull her into a false sense of security. No more. From now on, she would be more vigilant. She would do everything in her power to keep Lucifer from getting hurt.  
  
****  
  
She arrived at the church just as Lucifer and the detective were going in. Following them swiftly and silently, she stayed in the shadows, unnoticed by the two, as all three of them took in the confrontation happening up there in front of the altar. There, on the left, was the priest. Standing almost at the center was apparently the boy he had been trying to save, threatening him with a gun. And behind the boy on the right stood a third man.  
  
One glance told Maze that this third man was the real danger here. The boy was obviously weak, hesitant, definitely not a killer, despite the man's attempts to turn him into one. Maze could tell that the man was getting more and more frustrated as all his psychological tricks remained fruitless. Soon, very soon, he would realize that nothing would work, and then he would have to take matters into his own hands. And when he did, things would get ugly. Her demon dagger was in her hand without her having to consciously think about it.  
  
As she continued to watch, Lucifer and his pet human crept closer to the front of the church. Maze wanted to shout at them for being idiots. What were they waiting for? Why didn't they eliminate the threat? Fools, both of them. Their hesitation would get someone killed, and while Maze couldn't care less about the boy or the priest, she knew Lucifer did care for the latter, and it would hurt him if the priest got hurt or killed. She could not let that happen. It was her duty to protect him, to keep him from being hurt, after all.  
  
And then the boy dropped the gun he had been holding, and told the man that he couldn't do it. And the man reacted just as Maze had known he would, by taking action himself. Maze tensed, waited for the perfect moment, and just as he brought his hand forward with the gun, she let her dagger fly.  
  
****  
  
Fear shot through Lucifer as the youth counselor reached back and pulled his own gun. He knew with absolute certainty that the man would not hesitate to shoot. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Father Frank stepping in front of the boy, shielding him with his body. Beside him, he could feel the detective starting to move to intervene. But there was no chance that she would manage to do so in time to prevent the murderer from firing at least one shot. Everything was happening too fast, and there was nothing he could do. Just as this realization hit him, there was a whistling sound, and he felt the air move as something flew by close to him.  
  
With a clatter and a near-silent splat, both the gun and the hand that had been holding it hit the ground. For a fraction of a second, everybody stood frozen, trying to comprehend what had happened. Then Doyle began screaming hysterically, his left hand clutching the stump of his right arm, trying desperately to stop the blood that was spurting from the wound. As Detective Decker stormed forward to simultaneously administer first aid and arrest the murderer, the boy Connor practically fell into Father Frank's arms. The priest did his best to soothe the shocked and traumatized youth, even while he followed Decker's shouted order to call an ambulance.  
  
Lucifer alone remained completely motionless, still trying to understand what had happened. It was clear to him that some sort of thrown weapon had cut off Doyle's hand. His gaze was drawn to the severed appendage lying on the ground. Even if the projectile had cut through the wrist, passing through the gap between wrist bones and arm bones, it would have needed a very sharp blade, not to mention great force and precision to do it.  
  
But that was not what had happened. The hand had been severed about two inches below the wrist. In the process, both the Radius and the Ulna had been cut through cleanly. No human blade could have done that, at least not under these circumstances. But Lucifer knew a weapon that was capable of it. He scanned the wall behind where Doyle had stood, and after a few moments found what he was looking for. A demon dagger, its tip buried at least an inch deep in the wood paneling.  
  
Just as his eyes focused on the knife, it quivered slightly, pulled itself free, and shot back to its owner. Lucifer whipped around, trying to keep it in sight, but even with his supernatural speed he wasn't fast enough to do so. By the time he finished his turn, the only thing he saw was the barest glimpse of a vague figure disappearing in the shadows. It was gone so quickly that he couldn't even be certain he had really seen it at all. But he didn't need to see anybody to know who was responsible. The dagger alone was proof enough of that. It could only have been Maze.  
  
Confusion filled him. What the hell was his demon playing at now? Why would she save the boy, or the priest? Had she done it to impress him and get back into his good graces? But if so, why did she leave without making her presence known? Surely, if she had done it to regain his favor, she would have made certain that he knew she was responsible. Even if she didn't want to announce her presence to the others, she could have waited a moment, let herself be seen by him.  
  
No, it didn't make sense. But Lucifer could imagine no other motive for his demon's intervention. He himself had not been in danger, the detective would have taken out Doyle before he had the chance to shoot them. The only ones in danger had been Connor and Father Frank, and Maze had absolutely no reason to wish to protect either one.  
  
Detective Decker's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Turning back towards her, he saw that she had managed to stop Doyle's bleeding with an improvised tourniquet. The man himself appeared to have fainted, but he was clearly still alive. From the look on the detective's face, it seemed that she had been trying to get Lucifer's attention for a while.  
  
"Did you see something? Do you know what happened?"  
  
"Detective, I have absolutely no idea what just happened here. It is a complete mystery to me."  
  
He spoke with utter conviction. It was the truth, after all. Nevertheless, Decker kept looking at him suspiciously. Damn. He didn't want to tell her that Maze was responsible. Getting her officially involved in this would only cause trouble. He really didn't need the police trying to investigate his demon.  
  
Thankfully, the arrival of the ambulance, as well as a bunch of the LAPD's finest, successfully distracted the detective. Lucifer sighed in relief, and then grimaced as he realized that it would be quite a while before he would be able to leave. He hated having to deal with the more mundane parts of police work, and between the injured murderer and the unexplained way in which it happened, it would take some time until everything was sorted out. He was tempted to use the chaos to just disappear and head back to LUX, but knew from experience that the detective would have his hide if he left her here to deal with this alone.  
  
****  
  
When he finally made it back to the club, Maze was nowhere to be seen. A quick enquiry revealed that she had left almost immediately after he and Detective Decker went after Father Frank, and nobody had seen her since.  
  
With an annoyed sigh, Lucifer signaled for the bartender to pour him a drink, and then turned leaned back against the bar. He surveyed the activities around him, trying to get his mind off the vexing problem of his demon's inexplicable behavior, but without success. He just couldn't understand it, and he hated not understanding anything. Especially when it came to her. Up until tonight, he had thought that he knew and understood Maze completely. They had been together for millennia, and knew each other better than anybody else did. Not even her betrayal had changed that. He had been disappointed by it, and angered, but it hadn't really surprised him. But now...  
  
For a brief moment, he wondered if this was how Maze felt about him, about the changes in his own behavior. If, perhaps, she had done this simply because she knew it wouldn't make sense to him and leave him confused and uncertain. But no, his demon wouldn't come up with something like that. These sorts of mind games were not in her nature. Could he be sure of that, though? After all, how well did he really know her if she could do something that left him utterly baffled? A shiver of uneasiness went through him at the thought that maybe he didn't know his demon at all. No, this way lay madness. He had to believe that he knew her, that in the long, long time they had been together, he had come to understand her, and her intrinsic nature. And yet, that left him with the problem of how to explain her actions tonight.  
  
With a frustrated growl, Lucifer tossed back his drink, put the empty glass down on the counter, and stalked towards the lift. He was in no mood for partying, and the atmosphere in the club was doing nothing to distract him. At least up in the penthouse, he could brood in peace.  
  
When the elevator doors opened onto an empty living room, Lucifer was momentarily disappointed. This only served to make him realize that he had subconsciously expected Maze to be here, waiting for him. Cursing both her and himself, he stalked over to the bar and poured himself a large whisky, downing it in one go before refilling his glass.  
   
He wondered where his demon was. Perhaps she had come home and was hiding in her room? A quick trip down the hallway and a look inside Maze's bedroom showed that this was not the case. She was not there, and there were no signs that she had been there at all since housekeeping did their daily round shortly after lunchtime. All her belongings were still there, though, so Lucifer was certain that she would be back sooner or later.  
  
He returned to the living room, moving around restlessly, unable to settle down. The events of the day were still occupying his mind. Foremost of all was the inexplicable behavior of his demon. But since he wouldn't get anywhere on that subject without having a talk with her, he now tried to focus on the other things that had happened.  
  
There was Father Frank, of course. He had found himself liking the man despite everything. The priest had turned out to be a good man, and he had a surprisingly decent taste in music, 'Knocking on Heaven's Door' notwithstanding.  And to his great astonishment, Frank seemed to like him, too, or at least not to despise him, despite apparently taking his claim to be the devil seriously. He wondered if he would see the priest again, now that their case was over. A large part of him hoped he would, no matter how ridiculous he still found the idea of the devil being friendly with a priest. No matter why Maze had done what she had done, he was glad that she had saved Frank. If not for her...  
  
The thought of what would have happened if his demon had not intervened made his anger boil up. Frank would have been killed, Lucifer was certain of that. A good man, a faithful servant of his father, would have died. And his father would have let it happen, would have done nothing to save the man.  
  
Fury burned within him as he stalked out onto the balcony. He tried to calm his nerves with a cigarette, only to find his lighter not working. With a snarl, he hurled it away into the night. He glared up at the cloudy sky.  
  
"You would have let him die, wouldn't you, you cruel, manipulative bastard! That was part of your plan. It's all just a game to you, isn't it, eh? Well, I know punishment, and he did not deserve that. And thanks to Maze, he didn't end up the way you wanted him to. I wonder, though, what does it take to please you? He followed your stupid rules, and it still wasn't good enough! Break your rules and you fall. Follow them and you still lose? Doesn't matter whether you're a sinner! Doesn't matter whether you're a saint! Nobody can win! So, what's the point? What's the bloody point?"  
  
Lucifer broke off, breathing heavily. He took several moments to try to compose himself, and then shot a withering glare up at the dark sky.  
  
"Well, guess what, Dad, right now it looks as if my soulless demon is a better, more decent being than you are! Because no matter what her reasons were, at least she did the right thing!"  
  
With that, he stalked back inside to get his drink, his thoughts once again occupied by the one subject he didn't want to think about. To distract himself, he sat down at the piano and started playing, trying to lose himself in the music. Before he could manage it, he was interrupted by the sound of the elevator doors opening. Looking up, he wondered if his demon had finally decided to return. However, instead of Maze, Detective Decker stepped into the penthouse. Lucifer stopped playing and turned towards her.  
  
"Detective! To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you at this time of night?"  
  
One glance at the determined look on her face told him that this was not a social visit.  
  
"I wanted to talk with you about what happened tonight."  
  
With a sigh, he got up from the piano and walked over to the bar to get another drink.  
  
"I already told you and your colleagues everything I know. Repeatedly. Perhaps our murderer can tell you more. How is he, by the way?"  
  
"Still in surgery. They are working to reattach his hand."  
  
Lucifer wished them good luck with that. A demon dagger did not merely cut through mortal flesh. It cut through the spirit, the soul, the animating force, whatever you want to call it. The cut had truly severed all connections between hand and arm, and no matter how skillfully the surgeons would sew and splint it all together again, their efforts would be in vain. The hand would never reconnect with the body, unless his father sent someone to work a miracle.  
  
"I haven't had the chance to talk to the surgeons yet, but the paramedics who took care of him at the scene say they've never seen anything like it. They just can't imagine how his hand could have been severed so cleanly. Especially not without anyone of us seeing what did it, and no trace of the instrument to be found anywhere."  
  
She was looking at him intently, suspicion plain in her eyes.  
  
"Did you have anything to do with it?"  
  
He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "What, did I use some sort of devilish superpower to just make his hand fall off? Nope, sorry, I don't have that ability."  
  
"But something or someone must have done this! Can you think of anyone, anything that could?"  
  
"Oh, I can think of plenty of things that could do it. A Jedi light saber, for example. Or my brother Michael with his bloody great sword. Several of my other siblings, too, as long as dear old dad gave them the order. After all, how does it say in the good book? 'Wherefore if thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and cast them from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire.'"  
  
That only got him an irritated look from the detective.  
  
"Yeah, I don't think Doyle's hand was cut off through some kind of divine intervention."  
  
"Well, that's something we can agree on, Detective."  
  
He smiled wryly. Definitely not divine intervention, no. Decker just glared at him.  
  
"But something, someone did this. And we have to find out what or who, and why."  
  
Lucifer suppressed a sigh. He liked the woman a lot, but she could be so very irritating. Not unlike a certain demon, in a way. Cursing himself silently for once again thinking of Maze, he cast around for something to keep the conversation going and distract himself.  
  
"So what now? Did your forensics people turn up any leads?"  
  
He was genuinely curious. After all, if they had found anything, it might lead them back to his demon, and he couldn't risk that. Decker sighed in frustration.  
  
"Nothing so far, except for a relatively fresh cut in the wood paneling that could have been made by some sort of knife. But nobody can say for certain if it is from whatever cut off Doyle's hand. And if it is, then someone must have removed the weapon without us seeing them, and that's impossible. And it can't have been one of us, because I would have noticed. Anyway, that cut may be fresh, but it could have been there for a few days already. No way to tell if it was made tonight, unless a reliable witness turns up who can state with certainty that it wasn't there earlier in the day. We'll have to question the staff, especially the cleaning staff, and the regular churchgoers."  
  
"But you don't expect to get anything definite from them." Lucifer could tell by her tone.  
  
"No. Something like that, small, almost invisible, in the background. That's not something people notice unless they are there when it happens and see it happen. The cleaning staff may be able to say that it wasn't there the last time they went through the church, but the walls are not something that is cleaned every time, and anyway according to Father Frank, they clean twice a week, and the last time was two days ago."  
  
"So the cut is most likely useless to us. Anything about my vague shadowy figure who I'm not even completely certain was there?"  
  
The Detective snorted at that. "Nothing so far, but I've ordered some officers to comb the neighborhood for potential witnesses, and see if they can turn up anything on the CCTV of the stores around the church, or traffic cams from the area. Unfortunately, there are no cameras directly around the church."  
  
Once again, Decker's tone made it clear that she didn't expect much from this line of enquiry. Lucifer agreed. Maze was too good to be caught on CCTV, and while it was always possible that some random witness had stumbled across her on her way to or from the scene, she would have taken measures to make sure that she could not be recognized. Inwardly, he was relieved.  
  
"So we have to wait until the searches and interviews turn up something, or Doyle or his surgeons can give us more information. None of which is very likely to yield anything useful. Not a promising situation."  
  
Decker sighed. "No. Unless some sort of miracle happens, I don't think we will be able to solve this particular mystery. And frankly, nobody at the precinct will care. We caught the murderer and exposed a pretty big drug trafficking organization. That's the stuff that counts for the Lieutenant. A drug dealer and murderer mysteriously getting his hand cut off is not the kind of crime that people care about. They'll probably hand me another case soon, and tell me to drop this one."  
  
"Well, I think that in this case, there really is nothing else we can do, unless the current lines of enquiry do turn up something after all."  
  
Lucifer tried to sound sympathetic and resigned, rather than happy and relieved. It seemed like he didn't succeed completely, since the irritation and a vague suspicion were still there in the way the detective looked at him.  
  
"You're taking this pretty calmly. Usually you insist that we must find the perpetrator."  
  
He barely managed to suppress an eye roll.  
  
"Yes, but usually, we have at least some clues, or some promising lines of enquiry. Besides, Doyle is hardly an innocent victim. Whoever cut off his hand stopped him from shooting the priest or the boy. Seems to me, a cut off hand is a fitting punishment for attempted murder."  
  
She glared at him.  
  
"It doesn't matter whether or not you think that this is a fitting punishment. We can't have someone going around cutting people's hands off!"  
  
"As far as I know, whoever it was has only cut off this one hand. Or have you come across any other cases like this?"  
  
Decker just grumbled under her breath at that. Lucifer sighed.  
  
"Detective, it is getting rather late, and this discussion is fruitless. I suggest you go home and get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow there will be some new information we can work with."  
  
"Alright." She turned and headed for the elevator. "Good night, Lucifer."  
  
"Good night, Detective."  
  
Once Detective Decker was gone, Lucifer returned to the piano and started playing again. He was determined to wait until his demon returned, and then confront her about her actions. However, when she still hadn't shown up at 3:00 am, he came to the conclusion that she must have chosen to spend the night elsewhere. With an irritated sigh, he decided to go to bed. Sooner or later, she would have to show up again, and then he would get his answers.


	2. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning doesn't go quite the way Lucifer expected.

When Lucifer woke up the next morning, it was just in time to see the elevator doors closing on his demon. So, it appeared that she had returned at some point during the night after all. He was tempted to go after her at once, but that would be a tactical mistake. Instead, he decided to take his time to shower, get dressed, and have a little breakfast before going downstairs to confront her.  
  
He was just finishing his cup of coffee while sitting on the couch and leafing through today's newspaper, when the elevator doors opened and Father Frank stepped into the penthouse. Lucifer got up and went over to the other man.  
  
"Padre! To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you?"  
  
"I came by to thank you for your help with Connor. I owe you a favor for that."  
  
Lucifer shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Padre. I never agreed to a deal with you."  
  
"You still helped to find the real murderer, and put an end to the drug dealing at the youth center. Your involvement saved Connor. He's cooperating fully with the police, and in exchange he'll probably get only probation for his own involvement."  Father Frank smiled at him. "In this case, I think actions speak louder than words, so yes, I do owe you a favor."  
  
"Well, if you absolutely insist on it..." The devil gave a sigh, making it sound as if accepting was a great burden on him. Frank just chuckled.  
  
"Besides, I have a suspicion that you had something to do with what happened yesterday evening."  
  
At that, Lucifer turned absolutely serious.  
  
"No. I had nothing whatsoever to do with what happened there, Padre."  
  
The priest raised his hands in a defensive gesture.  
  
"Alright, I believe you. But I do know that you know more about what happened than you told the detective and her colleagues."  
  
"And how, exactly, do you think you know that?"  
  
"Because I could see it in your eyes, in the way you behaved. Your partner the detective may not have seen it, but I did."  
  
He paused, clearly waiting for Lucifer to say something, perhaps admit that he was right. When the devil remained silent, he continued.  
  
"You know, some of my more, shall we say, excitable parishioners are claiming that it was divine intervention. That God struck down the murderer and saved their priest. I try to discourage such talk, of course, but-" He shrugged.  
  
That made the devil laugh. "Oh, that's priceless. Please tell Maze that. Just let me be there when you do, I want to see the look on her face!"  
  
Frank frowned at that.  
  
"Your bartender? Why would she-" He stopped as realization dawned. "She was the one who cut off Doyle's hand and stopped him from shooting Connor or me?"  
  
Lucifer cursed himself silently. He had not meant to let anybody know about this, and certainly not Father Frank. The priest seemed to read something in his expression, because he hastened to reassure the other man.  
  
"I promise I will keep anything you tell me confidential. If you want to, we can call this a confession, and the secret of the confessional is absolute."  
  
The devil suppressed a smirk at that, but accepted the words in the spirit they were meant.  
  
"Very well, as long as you give me your word that you will not let Detective Decker or any other member of the LAPD hear anything about it." When Frank nodded, he continued. "Yes, I strongly suspect that Maze is responsible. I didn't see her at the scene, so cannot say with certainty that she did it. But there are certain circumstances - which I won't tell you about - which make me believe that this was her doing."  
  
"But how? And why?"  
  
Lucifer shrugged. "Maze is a very handy girl with knives. As for why, I have absolutely no idea. I told the detective and her colleagues the truth there. She would have no reason to wish to save the boy or you. Rather the opposite, in fact, at least where you are concerned."    
  
The priest raised an eyebrow at that, but got no further explanation.  
  
"Have you asked her about it?"  
  
"No. Maze and I are not really on speaking terms at the moment, and since yesterday evening, she's been avoiding me. Besides, I'm not sure that she will actually give me any useful answer. She can be quite obstinate if she wants to."  
  
"Would you mind if I asked her about it?"  
  
"Not at all. Feel free to talk to her as much as you like, just don't expect her to tell you anything. Mazikeen is not fond of humans, and despises priests."  
  
So that was the explanation for that earlier remark. Frank smiled wryly.  
  
"I'll take my chances."  
  
With that, the priest turned back towards the elevator, but stopped when his gaze fell on the piano.  
  
"That really is a lovely instrument you have there. Thank you for letting me play it yesterday."  
  
"You're welcome." Lucifer studiously avoided looking at Frank as he continued. "You know, you could always come by every now and then to play a bit. After all, you clearly need the practice."  
  
The other man laughed out loud at that. "Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that offer."  
  
"You could start right now, if you like."  
  
"I'd love to, but I need to get back to my church. After everything that happened in the last few days, my parishioners need me."  
  
He looked like he really did regret not being able to stay. Lucifer swallowed down his protests and gave a nod of acceptance.  
  
"Very well. Thank you for coming by, Padre, and I hope I'll see you again soon."  
  
"Count on it. And thank you again for your help, Lucifer. You're a good man, and I'm glad to know you."  
  
With that, Father Frank stepped into the elevator, leaving the devil standing there, looking after him in astonishment.  
  
****  
  
It took him several long moments to shake off his surprise at the priest's parting words. When he finally did, he sprang into action. If Frank had been serious about talking with Maze, then Lucifer absolutely needed to hear that conversation. He hastened to the door of the emergency stairway, and then practically flew down the stairs, using his supernatural speed to make sure he arrived in time.  
  
Once downstairs, he made his way into the club by a back passageway, taking care not to alert Maze - who was in her usual place behind the bar, going over the books - to his presence. He had just found the ideal spot, close enough to see and overhear everything, dark enough that they wouldn't see him unless they were looking specifically, when the elevator doors opened and Father Frank stepped out.  
  
After a quick look around, the priest headed straight for the bar. Mazikeen saw him coming and stopped in her work to glare at him before pointedly turning back to her books. Lucifer wondered if his demon would simply ignore the man, and for a few moments it looked like she would. But then she turned back around, poured a drink, all but slammed it down in front of Frank, and addressed him, her tone hostile.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Frank appeared completely unperturbed by her attitude. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life yesterday."  
  
Maze arched an eyebrow at that. "What makes you think I had anything to do with that?"  
  
"Lucifer seemed pretty sure that you were responsible."  
  
The devil watched eagerly to see how his demon would react to that. Would she confirm her involvement, or deny it? Maze chose to do neither. She ignored the comment completely and went back to working on her books.  
  
"So, again, thank you for saving my life."  
  
"I didn't do it for you."  
  
"Why did you do it, then? Lucifer mentioned that you dislike priests." Frank sounded genuinely curious.  
  
"I did it for him, of course."  
  
At this, the priest looked just as confused as Lucifer felt.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Maze snorted. "Obviously."  
  
"Why would my death matter to him?"  
  
She hesitated for a moment before turning back to him and replying. But her answer didn't seem to have anything to do with the question.  
  
"He told you what I was when you first came here."  
  
Frank frowned, clearly confused by the sudden change in subject. He remained silent for several moments, probably trying to remember exactly what had been said during that first meeting.  
  
"He called you his demon."  
  
"Exactly. His demon. I exist to protect him. To know where he is and who he is with at all times."  
  
The unspoken words 'Whether you like it or not' echoed in Lucifer's mind, making him wince. He had only stated the truth there, but that didn't make the words any less hurtful. It was Maze's duty, her purpose, to protect him. But in their millennia together, she had been so much more than a mere bodyguard. To reduce her role in his life to this basic duty had been cruel. He wondered suddenly if this was what had driven her to betray him to his brother. Before he could dwell on that unpleasant possibility, she spoke again.  
  
"It is my job to keep Lucifer from getting hurt. Your death would have hurt him. Therefore, I was duty-bound to prevent it."  
  
Lucifer couldn't help it, he gaped at his demon. There was only one way in which the padre's death would have hurt him: he would have lost someone he had started to like, and care about. Maze had saved a priest to protect his feelings?! Frank, however, was still confused.  
  
"I still don't understand. How would my death have hurt him?"  
  
Maze rolled her eyes.  
  
"He promised his pet detective that he would keep you safe. You getting yourself killed would have meant that he did not keep his promise."  
  
"But I left of my own free will."  
  
"Doesn't matter. He gave his word that you would be safe. You getting shot would have meant he broke his word. And that would have hurt him. It would have diminished his reputation, and that can have serious consequences."  
  
This gave Lucifer pause. It was a point he had completely failed to consider. She was right, of course. The padre getting killed would have broken his promise to the detective, even though the man had left the protection of Lucifer's penthouse of his own free will. And yet, this explanation for Maze's actions didn't seem satisfactory to him. The damage to his reputation in this case would have been very minor, since the priest deliberately walked into danger. And besides, Maze had never taken a proactive role in ensuring that he was able to keep his promises before. Why should she decide to do so now, in this particular instance?  
  
Frank's voice drew his attention back to the two at the bar.  
  
"Well, whatever your reasons were, I'm still grateful you saved my life. And I assure you that I have no intention of hurting Lucifer in any way."  
  
That earned him a derisive snort.  
  
"Do you have any idea how many damned souls are suffering Hell's eternal torments for things they claim they never intended to do? It is quite easy to hurt someone unintentionally, even unknowingly."  
  
Lucifer wondered just who Maze was talking about. The priest? Herself? Him? All three?  
  
"So you better take care that you don't hurt him, intentionally or not. Because if you do, I will make you pay for it."  
  
The threat was clear in her voice. Frank took it in stride, giving her a solemn nod, but not showing any sign of uneasiness or fear. Instead, he studied her carefully, and then spoke.  
  
"You care for him deeply, don't you?"  
  
Maze drew herself up, and the heated glare she directed at the priest made Lucifer wonder if he would have to intervene. To accuse a demon of having such human emotions as caring was a grave insult. Maze had killed people for less. Frank clearly had no idea of the severity of the offense he had just given.  
  
Fortunately for everybody, the demon chose not to react with violence. And to Lucifer's surprise, she also did not directly deny the accusation.  
  
"Lucifer is the Lord of Hell. I am a demon. He is my master, and I am his servant. I followed him through the Gates of Hell. It is my duty to protect him. I am bound to him in ways you could never understand. Human emotions have nothing to do with it."  
  
"But what about Lucifer? Surely-"  
  
"Surely what? Surely the fact that he keeps me around must mean that he has some sort of feelings for me?" Maze scoffed. "No wonder you humans fuck up so much, if that's the way you make your decisions. Lucifer keeps me around because I am useful to him. That's all there is to that."  
  
Lucifer shifted slightly in his hiding place. The idea that Maze believed that he only kept her around because she was useful made him uncomfortable.     
  
"I don't believe that." Frank stated calmly, making the devil shake his head. Was the priest determined to piss off Maze enough to get violent? "I've seen the way he looks when he talks about you. The two of you may have some trouble at the moment, but I'm sure he cares about you."  
  
Once again, the devil found himself surprised by the priest's perceptiveness. He was right, of course. Lucifer did care about Maze. If he didn't, her betrayal wouldn't have hurt him.  
  
Maze, however, clearly didn't believe it. She glared at Frank, her voice icy as she replied. "Get this through your head, priest. Lucifer and I are not like you humans. The relationship between him and me, the bonds between us, that is not something any mortal can ever truly understand. He and I, we are not friends. And he does not care about me. Why would he? The Lord of Hell does not care about demons."  
  
Her words were a punch to the gut for Lucifer. After all their time together, his demon really believed that he didn't care for her? That they weren't friends? Admittedly, he had been rather harsh towards her recently. And not just after discovering her betrayal. But still, surely she knew he would forgive her eventually. He paused as he thought about this. How should she know? After all, she had never betrayed him before. And of course she had never seen him forgive anybody else who betrayed him. When demons plotted against him in Hell, he had always struck them down without mercy. But Maze was different. Almost from the first time he had laid eyes on her, she had been more than a mere demon to him. And she had always been the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. Knowing that she didn't see it that way hurt.  
  
But then, he had never told her that he saw their relationship as anything other than master and servant. Yes, he had told her he liked her, that he enjoyed her company. But he had never called her his friend.  
  
Frank chose that moment to speak up again, and Lucifer had to wonder if the man had a death wish. "When you say you are bound to him, that makes it sound as if you have no choice but to stay with him."  
  
"There is always a choice, priest. You humans, you love to say that there isn't, whenever the choice doesn't appeal to you. But that doesn't mean the choice isn't there." The look she gave him was full of disdain. "I made my choice to serve Lucifer a long time ago, and I did it knowing full well the price I might one day have to pay for it. And every day since, I have made my choices. So don't you dare try to claim otherwise. Don't try to paint me as some helpless pawn without any will of my own. I may be his servant, but I chose that role. Just like I chose to come to this forsaken realm with him, and stay by his side. The choices were all mine, and so are the consequences."  
  
Lucifer's mind was racing. Maze's reaction hadn't surprised him, he knew her opinion on the matter of choices well enough. But nevertheless, it made him wonder. Because when she first caught his attention, he had given her the choice of being just another one of his servants, or becoming much more than that, his confidante and trusted right hand. His lover. But there had not been a choice of not serving him at all. And yet Mazikeen had just stated that she had chosen to become his servant.  
  
He realized that he had never really questioned how she had come to his attention in the first place, and what her motives may have been for accepting his offer of a position by his side. He was well aware that most demons regarded it as a bad thing to catch the attention of the Lord of Hell, and those who didn't were almost inevitably foolish, spineless sycophants. If Mazikeen had chosen to catch his attention deliberately, how bad would the alternatives have had to be?  
  
Father Frank, for his part, had clearly been surprised by Maze's vehemence, even taking a step away from the bar.  
  
"I am sorry. I did not mean to imply that you were a willingless pawn. I apologize."  
  
Maze didn't reply to that, but she did relax slightly, her expression smoothing out into a carefully neutral mask. Frank slowly stepped back up to the bar. Be studied the woman before him, obviously weighing his next words carefully.  
  
"Mazikeen, I really do not wish to offend you, or cause you or Lucifer any pain. I hope that we can find a way to get along."  
  
Seeing her suspicious and questioning look, the priest explained. "Lucifer invited me to come by and play on his piano every now and then. I intend to take him up on the offer. And of course I owe him a favor for his help with Connor."  
  
"He let you play on his piano upstairs yesterday, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes, he did. We played together for a bit."  
  
Maze startled at that revelation, staring at the priest in surprise before giving him a longer, more considering look. Now it was Frank's turn to look at her quizzically.  
  
"That means something, doesn't it? Something important."  
  
For a moment, it looked as though the demon would answer, but then she pressed her lips together and averted her gaze.  
  
Lucifer approved of her reticence, but at the same time he was intensely curious what his demon would have said. Maze knew of course how important music was to him, but what interpretation would she put on the fact that he and the priest had played together? It had been a spontaneous, spur of the moment thing to do, and Lucifer had enjoyed it very much, to his own surprise. But if asked what that meant, he would be hard pressed to give any answer.  
  
Frank gave a soft sigh when Maze remained silent.  
  
"Look, I can see that the two of you have some sort of trouble right now. I may not know exactly what it is, but if you need someone to talk about it, I'm there. And I promise that I will keep anything you choose to tell me strictly confidential." And then the priest once again tempted fate by saying exactly the wrong thing. "And if you want to, I could speak with Lucifer for you."  
  
Maze reared back as if Frank had hit her, and then a look of pure rage distorted her face. The devil tensed, certain that he would have to intervene now. He took a step forward, and then froze again.  
  
The demon pulled out her knives, but instead of attacking the priest, she merely waved them in his direction and hissed at him, her voice pure venom.  
  
"If you value your life, priest, you will never even think about suggesting something like that again. I would rather cut my own throat with one of these than let some mortal speak with my Lord on my behalf!"  
  
She slammed her hands down onto the bar, the demon daggers resting beneath her open palms. Frank had once again taken a step back from the bar. Now he was staring down at the wicked daggers that glinted in the dim lighting of the club.  
  
"Is that what you used..."  
  
He trailed off, unsure how to phrase it. Maze had no such problem.  
  
"To cut off that murderer's hand and save your life? Yes." She smirked. "Demon daggers, forged in the eternal fires of Hell. I wonder what your Heavenly Father thinks about that?"  
  
And with that, she picked up her daggers and disappeared through the door to the storage areas and back office, clearly unwilling to suffer Frank's presence any longer.  
  
Lucifer relaxed and breathed a silent sigh of relief. He vowed to himself that the next time the padre stopped by LUX, he would sit him down and have a talk with him about what not to say to a demon if one didn't want to end up dead. Because the fact that Frank had survived his talk with Mazikeen in one piece was nothing short of miraculous, given the talent the man had for insulting, offending and enraging the demon. Really, Lucifer was astonished that Maze had managed to refrain from reacting with violence. He had seen her kill for much less.  
  
He watched as Frank looked after Maze for a several long seconds. Then the priest gave a sigh, picked up the drink the demon had placed before him, and drained it in one go. He set the empty glass down and stared at it for a few moments, sighed again, and then turned away from the bar and made his way to the exit.  
  
Once he had left, Lucifer stepped out of his hiding place. He, too, glanced at the door through which his demon had disappeared, and then left the club, returning to his penthouse. Any desire to confront Maze about her actions the evening before had vanished for the moment. The talk between her and Frank had given him some answers, but also raised a lot of questions. He had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I left this story rather open ended. That was intentional, but I don't know yet if there is ever going to be a sequel to this.


End file.
